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The Wounded
"Good morning, Breezeflight." Drowsily, I raised my head and blinked the sleep out of my eyes. "Is it really morning?" "No." Dewfrost's eyes twinkled as he looked down at me. "It's late afternoon. You totally crashed after your vigil." He helped me to my paws. "How was it?" Lonely. It had given me way too much time to think. But looking into my former mentor's kindly face, I couldn't bear to be a pessimist. After all, he had brought me this far. It was thanks to his training that I had become a warrior. As if he read my mind, he touched his nose to my ear. "You earned it yourself," he said softly. "I can't thank you enough, Dewfrost. You changed my life." "Just doing my job," he said good-naturedly. I was still in a good mood as I walked over to the rest of the Vale Squad, who were clustered together and talking. "Hey, guys. Has Oakstar said anything about the fox den we found yesterday?" I asked. "Um, not a lot. Quailfeather just walked past and she said that he's definitely considering the pros and cons of trying to drive the foxes out. How many did you say they were?" "We only saw one, but I scented at least two," I said doubtfully. "Is it worth the risk?" Specklepaw frowned. "I'd say yes. We can't just stay out here. We're too exposed. There's no shelter. The kits mewl at night because they're chilly, and it's only newleaf. Imagine what it'll be like in leaf-bare-" "We won't have to think about that, because we'll be back in our old camp by then," Daisypaw interrupted immediately. She glanced around, daring anyone to contradict her. No one did, not even Minkpaw. That was odd. Usually Minkpaw would- "Guys, where is Minkpaw?" I asked. "I don't know, but she's the one who said the entire Vale Squad should be there as moral support, to show how proud we were that you're now a warrior. You'd think she'd have shown up herself after that whole speech," grumbled Daisypaw. I suspected much of her crankiness was due to the fact that without Minkpaw to wait with for me to awake, it was just her and Specklepaw. Awkward. Anyway, moral support? Minkpaw had given them a speech about morally supporting to me? "Did either of you happen to hit Minkpaw over the head with a rock?" I said suspiciously. "Oh right, must've slipped my mind. I hit her with a boulder about ten minutes ago," said Specklepaw sarcastically. "Maybe a fox got her," said Daisypaw worriedly. "Minkpaw isn't stupid," Specklepaw said, clearly trying to be reasonable. "It's more likely that she went on an impromptu walk or something." "A fox could still have gotten her," retorted Daisypaw. "I'll get you both if you don't quit bickering," I said, interrupting their stare-down. I wasn't sure what I was expected to do in an argument between my best friend and 'boyfriend', but I wasn't interested in mediating or picking a side. Some cats are good at listening and knowing the right thing to say to make others feel better. Example, Ivyrose. Antonym, me. So instead I ignored the conflict, which usually worked reasonably well. "It looks like some warriors are missing as well. Duskwatcher, Bluebird... perhaps she's out on a patrol." Both Daisypaw and Specklepaw nodded, satisfied with that explanation. I got up, stretching my legs and arching my back. "In any case, I'm going to go wander around a bit and see if I can find Minkpaw." "I'll come with you," said Daisypaw and Specklepaw in unison. Neither of them actually got to follow up on that, because Yellowsun happened to barge in at that moment, talking about how losing our territory was no reason for apprentices to fall behind on their training. "You and Daisypaw will be warriors soon too," she told Specklepaw. "The two of you need to come with me and practice. The new setting will be a good learning experience." I waved my friends off, hoping to myself that they wouldn't tear each other apart during training, then set off on my own. "If I were Minkpaw, where would I go?" I mused to myself. Truthfully, I had no idea. Unpredictable as Minkpaw was, I might actually have stood a chance of answering that question with a fair amount of accuracy if we were within SpringClan borders. Out here though, it was pretty hopeless; I didn't know where I would go myself, let alone Minkpaw. I was still getting used to the plains. It was so strange to see nothing but miles of grass in all directions. At least back in the woods, you could use rocks or funnily shaped trunks as markers. Besides, I knew our territory as well as I knew my own paws: the little crooks and twists in the stream, the pine copse, the sandy pit that lay to the northwest, and of course, High-Rock, tall and proud on our eastern border. Now we'd crossed that border and were in StarClan-didn't-even-know-where. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I didn't even notice the form of a cat standing on a small hill in front of me, not till I was only a couple tails away from her. My first thought was that it was Minkpaw. But as I peered closer at her, managing to distinguish more details about her appearance through the waving blades of grass obscurring her, I realized it couldn't be my dark-furred friend. This cat was ginger tabby with a smattering of white markings. She padded towards me. She looked like she was a few moons older than me, but her stature was petite. Despite the fact that she could barely see over the tall grass, there was nothing about her that struck me as weak. Her amber eyes glittered keenly as she walked till we were face-to-face. "Fire." "Excuse me?" I said, puzzled. In my mind, I was trying to gather what I could from her scent. She smelled vaguely like Claron's rogues, which made me uneasy. But there was something different about her scent; it was interwoven with the fragrance of flowers and grass and baked earth, like she'd left the rogues and had been living out in the plains for a while. For all I knew, that was exactly what she'd done. Still, I couldn't help but unsheathing my claws, letting them sink into the earth as I waited to see if she was hostile. "Sorry," the she-cat mewed. "It's a force of habit. Claron always had us say our name first." "Why, because none of you knew each other's names?" I scoffed. "Yes, exactly," she responded without a trace of sarcasm. I blinked. "Oh." Then, I said, "Breezepaw." Another beat of silence passed. "Ah, dirt. I mean, Breezeflight." Fire frowned as she regarded me. "Are you honestly unsure of your own name?" "It just got changed. I just became a warrior," I explained. Her whiskers twitched. "So you're a Clan cat." I let my hackles raise. "And you're a rogue." "I prefer to go by loner. My days with Claron's rogues are over." "Why do I find myself doubting you?" "You're asking why you have doubts... Isn't that a question only you can answer?" I glared at her. She gave me a smirk. "Does it trouble you that a non-Clan cat betrays any sign of intelligence? I've found that's often the case with you warriors. So convinced that you know everything and that yours is the best and only way of life." "You and Ryan should be best friends," I muttered under my breath. To my surprise, recognition flared in her eyes. "Ryan? One of our old messengers? You know him? So he and his sisters really did betray the League?" "The League?" I echoed confusedly. Fire shook her head. "Never mind." "Is that what Claron calls her rogues? The League?" "I'm surprised at how little you and your Clanmates know," Fire said, almost scornfully. "Of course it's what she calls our- her group." I felt a snarl building in my throat. "If you're part of this League, I don't think you can come up with one good reason I shouldn't rip you to shreds." Unconcernedly, Fire said, "Well, for one, you don't stand a chance against me. Two, I already told you that I'm no longer affiliated with Claron and her rogues." Likely story. "They let you quit without any type of a fight?" Dryly, Fire said, "Of course not. Why do you think I'm hiding out here?" "You tell me. If I were you, I would've gotten as far as I could from the League," I said warily. "Why are you camped out in their backyard?" A shadow skirted Fire's eyes. "I may have escaped the League, but not everyone is that lucky," she said softly. "There is a reason I've stuck around. I have to get another cat out of Claron's clutches." "Who?" Stepping forward, Fire said, "You tell me something, Breezeflight. Why should I trust you with any information at all?" I considered this for a second. "Why would I betray you?" "I have been betrayed before," Fire muttered. Then she sighed. "It's my sister, Ariel. She couldn't make a run for it when I did, because she's blind." When she said that, she shot me a glare, as if daring me to make a rude comment about her sister's disability. I only shook my head. "I'm sorry; it must be terrible to be separated from her like that. I have a best friend who's like a sister to me, and I can't imagine how painful it would be to not have her by my side at all times." Taking a deep breath, Fire said, "Well, that's life." "How are you going to rescue Ariel?" Fire's face darkened, like she had suddenly slipped into a shadowy realm that I couldn't see. Her tone was guarded as she said, "I have a plan." "If it's dangerous, we might be able to help you. SpringClan is going to fight Claron-" She laughed. It was a bitter sound, but not emotionless. Her eyes glittered with sympathy. I know how you feel, she said subconsciously. They've taken from me too. "Good luck with that. The League is invincible." "No one's invincible," I said confidently. Her eyebrows raised ever so slightly. "That point of view is refreshingly naive." I was beginning to get a tugging sensation that she knew something I didn't. "What's that supposed to mean?" Abruptly, she said, "I've wasted too much time talking to you." "See you around?" I said haltingly. A contemplative look came over her face. "No, I don't think so," she said softly. I thought again of the wretched look in her eyes when she'd mentioned her plan to save her blind sister. I wondered exactly what she was planning to do. "But-" "Good bye, Breezeflight." And as quickly as she'd appeared, she was gone. When I got back to the camp, Minkpaw was back. Duskwatcher and Bluebird were too, so I guessed that she probably had been on a patrol. I nodded a greeting at her, but she was busy talking to Cherrynose, so I didn't interrupt. Quailfeather padded over to me. The deputy looked harrassed and worn out, like she hadn't slept a wink in days. "Breezeflight, would you mind filling in on our newly-assembled fighting patrol? Thistleblossom was supposed to go, but she's in the medicine cat's den sick to her stomach right now." "Sure, I don't mind," I said. "If I may, what exactly is the purpose of the fighting patrol?" Grim-faced, Quailfeather mewed, "We're driving out the foxes." My mouth went dry, and fear coursed through me like a pulse of electricity. Outwardly, though, I did my best not to show it. I was finally a warrior, I reminded myself. I couldn't prove myself a coward. "Who else is coming?" "Ivyrose, Hawkeye, Nighthawk, and Mintwhisker," Quailfeather said. "Oakstar is coming too." Her tone was calm, but I could tell that she was seething on the inside. "I mean, after losing yet another life in the battle with the rogues, you'd think-" She broke off, shaking her head. "Never mind. Just... do your best to protect him, would you?" "Absolutely," I promised immediately. She huffed a breath of relief. "Good. That's settled then. The others are waiting over there." She flicked her tail towards where the patrol was assembled, minus Thistleblossom. "I'll hold down the camp till you--hopefully--win us a new place to stay. I've got to say, I really hope this mission succeeds. Risky as it is, it'll be worth it to not have to stay out here. Staying out on the plains gives me the shivers. It's unnatural." "Very unprotected," I agreed. "I'll try not to let you down." For a moment, the exhaustion left her gaze. "Thanks. That's all I can ask for." I saluted her with a flick of my tail, then joined Oakstar and the other cats. We filed out of the camp, and I tried to convince myself that the ominous sound of our footfalls wasn't the beat of a death march. Since I'd been part of the patrol who'd first found the rocky well, I led the way. Oakstar scented the air as we got closer. "They're inside," he reported. "Two of them." I nodded, telling my heart to quit going insane. "Down there, in the gorse," I whispered. We fanned out along the edge of the pit, looking down. The foxes were lying in the grass, their eyes narrowed into slits as they rested. A pang of guilt lanced through me. Despite the fact that I didn't smell the milk-scent or hear the little whimpers that were the telltale signs of motherhood, I still felt like I was about to tear apart a family. Were we any better than Claron, driving out these foxes? Then one of the foxes raised its head. The wind shifted, carrying our scent down to it. Its eyes widened, and it leaped to its paws. Time seemed to pitch forward till it was streaming past me. I couldn't catch up. One of the foxes scrambled up the side of the rocky den, and Hawkeye and Nighthawk raced to intercept it before it could lunge at Oakstar. Oakstar turned to me, Ivyrose, and Mintwhisker. "Follow me," he hissed. "We'll go after the other one." The second fox was a female. I wondered if she was pregnant. I wondered if I was about to destroy the lives of unborn fox cubs. I pushed those thoughts aside. Guilt was for later. Action was for now. I leaped onto the back of the fox and dug my claws in. She let out a yelp of anger and took it out on Ivyrose, sending the she-cat flying into a boulder. "Ivyrose!" I screamed. I swiped at the fox's ear, leaving it streaming blood down the creature's cheek. The fox bucked, but I clung on determinedly. Mintwhisker and Oakstar took turns darting in and attacking. It was pretty easy to tell that they'd been mates forever; their every movement was in sync with each other, like they were two halves of the same cat. Finally, the she-fox had had enough. She threw me off, then scrambled up the sides of the rocky slope. She disappeared, racing away through the tall grass. As I watched her go, I knew she wasn't coming back. Her mate wasn't coming back either, but for a different reason. My stomach did a slow, sickening roll within me as I looked at the dead fox. What kind of warrior was I? I'd never had any real aversion to violence before. Maybe it was just the principal of things. We'd just gotten ripped from our home by intruders, and now we were doing the same to these foxes. True, all foxes I'd ever known were sinister creatures, and if this pair had ever stumbled upon our camp, they would've torn us to bloody bits. But still, looking down at the creature we'd killed, I felt no sense of triumph. Just a hollow vacuum, as if someone was slowly siphoning out everything within me that made me who I was. And I couldn't help thinking, is this happening because we lost our homeland? The rogues had already robbed us of our territory, of our pride. We couldn't let them rob us of our values and integrity too. Otherwise, we would have nothing left. Nothing worth fighting for. Dawn, and I was already up. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I'd woken in a cold sweat, feeling like something was going terribly wrong. As I wove my way through my sleeping Clanmates, I tried to figure out what that could be. On the outside looking in, the Clan was as okay as it could be, all things considered. Last evening, we'd made the move from our makeshift patch of grass to the rocky pit. I knew a lot of the other warriors were uneasy, making their nests in a place that still smelled like fox blood. But it was the best option we had. Now, scrambling up the craggy walls and onto the open plain, I looked out at the glorious sunrise and tried to figure out why my fur was prickling and why my paws tingled with fear. I scented them on the breeze a second later. A low growl rumbled in my throat. I began following the scent. Foolish, I know. It might've been wise to return to camp, wake someone up, and get help. But I didn't. Soon I found myself crouched behind a large boulder, peering out at a sandy bald patch in the grass. Two of Claron's rogues were standing over a dark shape. I recognized one of them as Rory. The other was unfamiliar, though I was sure I'd seen her before in one of the battles we'd had with the League. She had wild gray fur and a badly-scarred face, her nose mashed in and turned upwards. When I saw what the two of them were looking down at, my blood ran cold. Surely I wasn't mistaking the ginger-and-white fur. It was Fire. And she was dead. Blood dyed her fur red. Her body was limp and lifeless. Something shifted beside me. I turned--and nearly screamed out loud. I was sure I was hallucinating, or seeing a ghost. "Fire?" I whispered, staring wide-eyed at the cat hiding behind the boulder right beside me. "What- how? That's you out there... I was so sure they killed you." "No." Fire looked tortured. "That's my sister. I'm too late. They killed Ariel." The End